Assassin's Creed: Wings of Freedom
by Nroque18
Summary: It is the year 1812, and the war on the Peninsula rages on in Europe. A young Assassin and his dragon from America is sent to aid the allied forces against Napoleon Bonaparte, and to recover his Piece of Eden...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Jeez, I must be the bravest person on this site. I mean, why ****_isn't _****there an Assassin's Creed/Temeraire crossover story on this site? They're like peanut butter and jelly, people!**

Accendare and her crew never saw them coming. It was a pleasant enough day in the Iberian peninsula, but that morning would quickly see to an irritating inconvenience during patrol. One moment, the French Flamme-de-Gloire was flying patrol with the other thirteen dragons in her formation, and the next thing she knew, a loud roar was suddenly let out as her topmen gave a shout of warning.

She glanced behind her, and her one good yellow eye widened as a heavyweight blue dragon of a breed she didn't recognize bore down on her, her riflemen shouting insults in English as their guns spat out painfully against her back.

Accendare hissed at her opponent as his fore claws gripped the base of her neck to secure her, while his hind claws secured her flanks, and they both began to plummet towards the ground quickly, faster than her Papillon Noir escorts could follow. As she swung her head to blast a jet of fire into his face, the strange dragon seized her by the throat, and forced her to look forward away from him.

Her opponent grew level as Accendare struggled to break free from her attacker's iron grip to no avail, and some of her riflemen got swatted as her belly rigging neared the treetops. Her formation still couldn't keep up with her heavyweight captor, who was fast for his size - he must've been making fourteen knots an hour, and he didn't look tired at all.

A lone figure then unstrapped his harness to leap down from her opponent's back, and it was slightly unnerving how silently the man had just dropped in out of almost nowhere, without any battle cries like what other aviators could do. Even so, she had to smirk. A one-man boarding party? What good could just one do-?

Accendare's good eye widened for a second time that day on the Iberian peninsula as two men dropped dead from pistol shots, and she could see the lone attacker's black coat had a beaked hood that concealed his face as he fought. One of her loyal topmen shouted insults in French as he lunged at him with his sword, but the man defended himself by grabbing his forearm with his left and thrusting his seemingly bare leather-gloved palm into the man's heart.

She didn't see how a simple, unarmed palm strike to the chest could kill a man, let alone leave a bloody hole a mere second later, but it did, and the remaining two topmen - a lieutenant and a midwingman - drew their swords nervously, and Accendare feared more and more for her dear captain.

For his part, the lone figure had yet to draw his sword, but now he did - twenty-eight inches of razor sharp steel, and he wielded it like a true master. Calm and collected and ready to strike like a snake.

The midwingman fired his pistol at the man's head as he rushed forward with his sword, but seemingly on instinct, the man dodged with a calm tilt of his head. The lone figure then parried the young man's sword blow to strike the teenager's heart like he did the first topman, and he fell dead as the lieutenant moved in, shouting a battle cry.

A rifle from the belly rigging of the blue dragon answered his challenge, and the man fell dead, hanging limply by his carabiner straps. The man advanced, and her dear captain raised his hands above his head as his captor aimed a rifle slung across his back at him, and for the first time, he spoke. It was a strong, clear voice - perhaps eight-and-twenty years of age, and it spoke in English. "Your parole, sir?"

Accendare and her captain reluctantly nodded consent, and the man signaled for his crew to replace the tricolors flying from her wings with unfamiliar ones: black flags both decorated with a white emblem in the vague shape of an arrowhead.

"Who are you, _monsieur_?" Her captain asked in English, and the man answered with a small smile on his face. "An Assassin..."

**A/N: So what do you guys think? This is my first crossover, so…**


	2. Chapter 2

"Bring the prisoner topside, lads!" Assassin William Kenway shouted to his crew aboard his Sky Hunter, Achilles Ratonhnhaké:ton, and two of his fellow Assassins, acting as riflemen for Achilles, unlatched their carabiner straps to escort Accendare's captain atop their dragon.

"Her escorts are still on our tail, William. If they manage to catch up to us, who knows what _they_ will do to us…" Achilles said, careful not to mention the Templars in hopes of letting William's reveal about his identity slip by without too much thought, and Kenway laughed, but with a serious look on his face. "You worry too much, dear Achilles - but let's give them something to think about, shall we? Riflemen, aim aft of Achilles!"

The Assassin recruits swiftly moved with their rifles into position near the base of Achilles's tail, and they now took aim at the head of the lead dragon - a lightweight Pascal's Blue, whose crew was shouting insults in French at the Assassins. "Fire!"

In one volley of concentrated rifle fire, the bullets spun in the air as they hurtled towards the unlucky dragon, and several of them even found their mark on the dragon's head, killing it almost instantly. Neither Achilles nor his crew batted an eye as it plummeted towards the ground, and not for the first time, Accendare felt unnerved by these… _Assassins_…

"Reload and give them hell!" Kenway shouted, but there was really no need to do so - the Assassins who volunteered to go on this mission were too well-trained in aerial combat to let an opportunity to reload their guns go to waste. The second and third volleys of the minute rang out, peppering the bodies and wings of Accendare's formation with bullets. "Grenades!"

The Assassins then brought out explosives encased in small clay pots, and as a Papillon Noir grew closer, they lit the fuses and hurled them atop the dragon's back. It roared in pain as the bombs exploded, killing or wounding its top-men as the first attack was quickly followed by more rifle shots.

"Longwing formation, two points off starboard bow!" Achilles cried out, and with a giant flap of his wings, Achilles put on an extra burst of speed. The only person _not _thrown off balance by Achilles's sudden boost was Kenway, who was calmly sitting as he reloaded his rifle.

_"Farewell and adieu, to you Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu, to you ladies of Spain! For we've received orders to sail for old England, but we hope in a short time to see you again!" _

"Kenway, this is no time to be singing sea shanties!" Achilles shrieked as he put on another burst of speed. His captain only laughed as he took aim at the eye of another Papillon Noir, and a split second later after the pull of the trigger, it shrieked in pain, blood trickling out of its eye socket.

"How many dragons are with the Longwing?" Kenway asked, and Achilles stared for a moment at the formation before answering.

"Seven in formation - and one coming straight at us!" Achilles said, and he suddenly dove out of the way as a dragon with red scales dotted with the bottle green uniforms of the British Aerial Corps zoomed past them, breathing fire all the way.

"Wow." That was all Kenway could say as he looked at the red fire-breather's battle with Accendare's formation in a mix of both awe and amusement. Even at this distance, he could hear the dragon's poor captain shouting at her to fall back. "Poor captain's sure got a handful to deal with…"

"But we've managed to escape with our target…" Achilles murmured, looking down at Accendare, who was glaring at him with a single golden eye of burning hatred.

"The day is won." Kenway said simply, and they flew on to join the safety provided by the Longwing's formation.


	3. Chapter 3

**ANIMUS DATABASE ENTRIES**

**William Kenway**

The son of Native American Assassin, Ratonhnhaké:ton, also known by the adopted name of Connor, he was born to an English mother on the Davenport Homestead near Rockport, Massachusetts. One of the most skilled Assassins from the United States of America in the early nineteenth century, he was also famous among the Brotherhood for being somewhat of an eccentric, if a very capable one.

**Achilles Ratonhnhaké:ton**

Achilles Ratonhnhaké:ton was hatched in the Davenport Homestead, sometime during the later months of 1804, where he quickly bonded with William Kenway. Instead of following the Mohawk tradition of giving the hatchling a unique name, Kenway decided to honor his late father by giving it his Mohawk name. Yes, William was definitely not _"so surprised that he almost shit his pants and just blurted out the first names he could think of when the dragon asked for a name"_, and yes, that is a direct quote.

**Dragon Breed: Sky Hunter**

The Sky Hunter dragon was one of the first heavyweights to be bred by the Kanien'kehá:ka, also known as the Mohawk tribe, for the fledgling United States Air Force. Based on the realization that the young nation could not match the European states in numbers, the Sky Hunter was bred to be strong enough to overpower almost any smaller dragon, yet still fast enough to escape from a fight with a larger one.

**—**

"Alright, I'll ask the most obvious question - just who the bloody hell are you?" Admiral Harte demanded as Kenway stood inside his command tent. Kenway had removed his hood to reveal golden blonde hair and blue eyes, both inherited from his mother, and a complexion that was just dark enough to reveal his native ancestry.

"William Kenway, though some also call me _Kanen'tó:kon_." Kenway answered, pronouncing the Mohawk name given to him by his father at birth as _ka-nen-doh-goon_.

"Well… I am not even going to try and pronounce that last bit." Admiral Harte said as he straightened out a pile of papers by tapping their bottom edges on his desk. "Now why are you here?"

"Why, to keep me ma's family from having to sing _La Marseillaise_, of course!" Kenway answered cheerfully. "As for Ratonhnhaké:ton just outside the tent, he's here to keep me from doing anything _too _stupid."

"That's very reassuring." Admiral Harte said dryly, but Kenway was not done yet. He placed his palms onto Admiral Harte's desk, and he looked at the older man more seriously.

"There's a feather on Jean-Louis Dubreton's head - and I'm here to dip it in his blood." Kenway said darkly, his eyes an icy cobalt, but Admiral Harte was a veteran aviator, having served with his Regal Copper, Colossus, since the first battle against the French Republic. He was in no way scared of the young Assassin.

"You mean you plan to kill him." Admiral Harte said, seeing the meaning behind the odd saying. "But whatever for?"

"I cannot tell you that - but since our goals coincide, why not let me work with you? We're not going anywhere until Dubreton is dead." Kenway said, and Admiral Harte considered the offer for a moment before coming to a conclusion, and he brought out a copy of a document that hadn't been used since the loss of the American colonies.

"This is a letter of marque of sorts for aviators - we used to give it to our allied native captains during your revolution." Admiral Harte said, signing it as he handed the form over to Kenway, who gave it a quick yet thorough glance. "You won't be paid as much as a regular captain, of course, and you won't have as much authority, either, but you will get to share in any prizes that we take."

"That will suit our purposes nicely." Kenway said crisply as he too signed on the line, and he rolled it up to put it in his coat.

"You will report to Captain Harcourt - you'll be serving as an auxiliary alongside Captain Granby and Iskierka." Admiral Harte said, and Kenway looked up.

"By any chance, is that the formation with the fire-breather? She packed quite a punch as she fought the French." Kenway asked, and Admiral Harte nodded with a sigh. Nodding with satisfaction, Kenway pushed past the tent flaps to see Achilles patiently waiting outside. "I overheard everything. So what do you think?"

"This will be interesting, indeed!" Kenway said, and Achilles gave off a deep rumbling in his throat, the dragon equivalent of a chuckle, as they walked together through the camp.


	4. Chapter 4

"William Kenway, on Achilles Ratonhnhaké:ton. It's a pleasure to meet you." Kenway said as he knuckled his forehead in a salute, and Harcourt nodded as she shook his hand.

"Catherine Harcourt, on Lily." Harcourt answered. If it surprised Kenway that she, a woman, was a full-fledged aviator captain, he didn't show it. "So you are to be joining my formation as an auxiliary? We'll see what you and your dragon are capable of."

"I promise you won't be disappointed." Kenway said with a smile, and Harcourt rolled her eyes.

"We'll see about that, Mr. Kenway." Harcourt said, and Kenway gave her a short bow of respect before leaving her private tent. Outside, the fire-breathing Kazilik - Iskierka, if he recalled correctly - was gloating to an ever-stoic Achilles about her treasure.

Achilles possessed no gold or jewels, but he did take pride in the enormous collection of decorative beads that he had amassed over the years from shipping goods to and fro. They hung around the base of his neck on thin braided ropes, and he looked at Iskierka's own gold-covered harness with an appraising and slightly envious eye.

"Achilles! How goes?" Kenway asked as he walked up to his dragon, and Achilles acknowledged the presence of his captain with a nod of his head as he stretched out a foreleg.

"I am very well, thank you, William. I have just been conversing with Iskierka and her captain, John Granby." Achilles said, and he allowed his captain to vault across his outstretched foreleg to lean back against it.

Said captain then appeared from behind Iskierka, wearing a highly-conspicuous green uniform covered in gold that Kenway noted would come in handy if he should try to assassinate his targets in a public place. After all, what better place was there to hide in than the center of attention?

"Hello there, mate - Captain John Granby, on Iskierka." The man said as he and Kenway shook hands. He was about two-and-thirty years of age, tall and lanky with dark hair in a low ponytail.

"William Kenway, on Achilles Ratonhnhaké:ton." Kenway answered, smiling broadly with an open face, and Granby clapped him on the back as he beckoned for him to follow.

"You'd best come with me so we can meet the other captains." Granby explained, and Kenway saw no problem with that. They strode with the same pace towards a clearing surrounded by tents, where the lieutenants were instructing their subordinates in the art of fencing.

"Thrust, Collins - _never _slash! You left yourself open to Kidd's strike!" Granby's second lieutenant, Lithgow cried out as one of the midwingmen raised his sword, allowing his younger opponent to stab his heart with a blunt wooden practice sword. The midwingman muttered something highly offensive about the second lieutenant under his breath, but before the duel could restart, Kenway stepped in between them.

"May I?" Kenway asked, looking towards Lithgow, who looked surprised at his sudden appearance. Then with a reluctant nod, Lithgow tossed Kenway a practice sword, which the Assassin caught easily by the blade. "Now then - both of you against me!"

Collins and Kidd both looked surprised, but they raised their swords and prepared themselves as their fellows prepared their bets. Collins lunged forward with the tip of his sword, having learned from his previous duel with Kidd, but Kenway stepped almost casually to the side and extended his foot a few inches, simultaneously dodging both Collins's attack and tripping him.

Kidd was next, and Kenway noted he was fast, although the practice sword was just a bit too long for his still-small frame to control effectively. Parrying his strike, Kenway lunged forward, and if his blade had been sharpened steel instead of blunted wood, Kidd would've been bleeding out on the ground.

Some instinct told him Collins was behind him, and he spun around just in time to narrowly dodge his sword. Then grabbing his sword wrist, Kenway put Collins's arm on his shoulder to hurl him bodily onto the ground, causing the spectators to gasp in surprise.

Kidd, having gotten up, thrust from across Collins lying on the ground, but one parry and a good hard kick from Kenway's long leg saw his buttocks kissing the dirt. "That's it! We're done!"

Kenway's supporters clapped while those who had betted on their friends, Collins and Kidd looked crestfallen at their loss, and Kenway walked to rejoin Granby. "That was impressive, mate - never seen anyone take on two opponents so easily."

"That was nothing compared to the scuffle I had with some drunk militia in a Boston tavern - I thought I had seen bar fights before, but then it got _really_ wild when the bananas came in…"

"That… sounds interesting…" Granby said weakly as he gave Kenway a strange look, but they nonetheless continued on to meet the other captains in Lily's formation.


	5. Chapter 5

After breakfast the next day, Captain Harcourt decided it was time to run some aerial drills. Kenway and Achilles were just fine with that, though Iskierka, the other auxiliary, was inclined to be difficult.

"_I _do not see why we must continue doing this - we already know what to do." Iskierka whined to Granby, who could only sigh, having given up long ago.

"Are you sure you have everything you need, William?" Achilles asked Kenway, who was busy suiting up.

"Yes, my nursemaid - swords, pistols, rifle, mid-flight snack…" Kenway said as he sheathed his swords and holstered his pistols. "And… ah, Captain Harcourt! Do you mind if you pass me that apple? It's going to be my snack."

Harcourt blinked, but complied with Kenway's request by tossing him the red, delicious-looking apple, which he caught easily to slip inside his coat. "I came here to see if you and your… _Assassins_ are ready. And what's this supposed to be?"

Harcourt held up a coil of rope bound together in the middle, with one end in a loop and the other in a knife, which Kenway took from her hand as he answered. "Ah, that would be a _shéng biāo _- or a rope dart, in English. One of the many gifts given to our order by Shao Jun."

"And next to the rope darts are bombs. I know, they look like coconuts, but I can assure you, they are not the delicious seed of the palm tree, nor do they taste like the delicious seed of the palm tree."

Harcourt blinked in confusion, and Kenway continued on cheerfully. "Anyway, shall we be off?"

Harcourt dumbly nodded, still not quite sure what had just happened, and she left to board Lily while Kenway climbed easily aboard Achilles. Dulcia and Nitidus, the lightweights of the formation, took off first, followed by the Yellow Reapers, Immortalis and Messoria. Lily, Iskierka, and Achilles went next, and last was Maximus and Kulingile, the largest of all.

As soon as they were all in the air, Lily took point, flanked by Messoria and Immortalis. Maximus and Kulingile took the rear, and at their sides were Dulcia and Nitidus. As for the auxiliaries, Achilles and Iskierka, they flew in looser positions from the others.

"Targets two points off starboard bow, captain!" One of the riflemen called up to Kenway, who nodded as Lily and her formation swerved to the right. As they flew above their targets, Lily the Longwing began spewing acid from her tusks, and as it hit the ground, it began to eat away at the formation of straw soldiers below.

"Ah… there's nothing like the thought of acid eating away at flesh to aid digestion, eh Achilles?" Kenway asked, looking down at Achilles's face. Achilles rolled his eyes and they continue to fly on. Another banking turn, and a poor, dilapidated barn was put out of its misery, leaving a gaping hole in its roof.

As they made yet another banking turn, a lookout at the formation's starboard side began shrieking, and the message was soon relayed throughout the formation. "Spanish formation, starboard reach!"

"All hands, beat to quarters!" Kenway shouted to his crew, and Achilles was not far behind Iskierka as they zoomed towards the Spanish formation.

"Aim for that Flecha-de-Fuego!" Kenway shouted, and as Achilles increased elevation, his riflemen began shooting, killing most of the topmen. Then Achilles made his move with a mighty roar, and he swooped down upon the smaller dragon.

The fire-breather squawked in surprise, and before she knew it, the larger dragon's captain had unclipped his carabiners and swooped down upon her captain, holding a blade hidden inside his sleeve to his throat. _"Un movimiento en falso, y su capitán…"_

_"Puede, señor! Me rindo! No lo mates!"_ The Flecha-de-Fuego pleaded, and the Assassin smiled as her captain was taken away from his wailing dragon. A team of Assassins roped down onto the Flecha-de-Fuego's back to commandeer her, and Kenway returned to Achilles.

"Our next target, William?" Achilles asked, and Kenway gestured to a golden Spanish middleweight. "Fly me above that dragon so I can air-assassinate his captain."

Achilles gave a slight nod, and with a great flap of his wings, he gained elevation, and Kenway unclipped himself from the harness. Then with a great leap, he fell from his dragon in a leap of faith, the hidden blade underneath his left wrist unsheathing with a flex of a muscle to enter the throat of the Spanish aviator.

Before his dragon knew what was happening, Kenway had put a bullet through his head before leaping off the dragon, leaving the dead dragon and his crew to plummet towards the earth.

Kenway grunted as he landed aboard Iskierka, who was flailing madly about as she breathed fire at the Spanish, and Granby looked surprised to see him. "Kenway! How the bloody 'ell did ye get here?!"

"I'm amazing like that." Kenway answered easily as he drew his pistol, and he pointed to his dragon coming up alongside. "There's my dragon. I'll see you later, Captain Granby!"

With yet another leap, Kenway was back aboard Achilles, and they flew to give aid to the rest of the formation.


	6. Chapter 6

Captain John Granby of the British Aerial Corps was in high spirits, along with the rest of the aviators stationed near Burgos. They had managed to capture another fire-breather for the Corps's use, and it was all thanks to Kenway and his dragon, Achilles. It didn't hurt that all of the captains present at the skirmish received a hefty amount of prize money, either.

Granby strode over to where Achilles was resting and his crew was at work, repairing sections of his harness or cleaning their weapons. "Hello, Achilles - is your captain hereabouts?"

"William is taking a nap - or at least that's what he told me. You're more likely to find him raiding the food stores for those fruits he has an obsession with." Achilles snorted, and Granby blinked as he began walking towards the covert's food stores.

—

Meanwhile, Kenway was not napping, nor was he conducting a one-man pantry raid as Achilles's cover suggested. He was inside his tent, preparing his equipment to infiltrate Burgos Castle. Stealth would be of utmost importance inside the heavily-guarded castle, so no gunpowder weapons would be brought with him.

He had sharpened his two swords with a whetstone, and he had slung his bow around his chest. Rope darts and throwing knives were kept handy on his belt, and he twirled the tomahawk his father had used during the Revolution before sheathing it. And last, but not least, were the hidden blades mounted on his wrists.

With a flick of the wrist, both blades unsheathed themselves, and Kenway nodded in satisfaction as he pulled up his hood. Leaving his tent, he began walking towards the covert gates.

"I'll be taking a walk around the camp, mates." Kenway said, nodding towards the two midwingmen standing guard with rifles, and without saying another word, he continued walking.

There was a lone tree some distance away from the covert, and it was here that Kenway found the horse left by his contact. It was a swift-looking gray stallion, and he now mounted it to ride off into the sunset towards Burgos Castle, hooves thundering on the pavement.

It was nightfall as he reached the section of the castle walls that been hit by the Anglo-Portuguese cannon fire. Avoiding the French and Spanish patrols on the way there had been easy - their lanterns gave away their positions, and he was able to ride out of their line of sight.

Dismounting his horse, Kenway walked up to the high wall. It had stone bricks missing in some places and an entire hole through the wall in another. Perfect for climbing.

Kenway took a few large steps back to take a running leap atop the wall, and he began surging his way up the wall like a monkey. As he neared the top of the wall, he could hear footsteps, and he pressed himself as close to the wall as possible to avoid being seen by the French sentry.

The sentry paused as he gazed around the countryside from his position behind the battlements, and Kenway breathed a sigh of relief as the sentry went away. Hand and hand went up over the other as Kenway lightly landed onto the top of the wall without a sound.

Before the sentry knew it, he had a hand clamped over his mouth as Kenway drove his hidden blade into his back, and Kenway laid his kill down carefully onto the wall to avoid making a sound. _"Quién eres?"_

_"Me llamo William Kenway." _Kenway answered easily as if he didn't just stab a guy, and as he stood up to face the change of watch, he pointed off into the distant countryside. _"Qué es esto allá?"_

The sentry was caught off-guard by the intruder's introduction, and as he turned to look, William hurled a knife at his head. Unfortunately, it didn't land blade first, and its pommel struck the sentry's skull, fracturing it and knocking the sentry out.

Kenway casually walked over to retrieve his fallen throwing knife. "I can't believe he actually bought that, and the same thing goes for his hat… Aw, well."

Throwing the second sentry over the battlements and stripping the first sentry naked before disposing of the body over the wall, Kenway put on his clothes and left his Assassin robes in a nearby barrel. It wasn't too bad a fit, considering the disguise had come from a dead man, and Kenway put away his conspicuous bow and other sword behind the wooden barrel where his robes were hidden.

The other sentries off duty in the tower paid him no attention in his disguise as they played cards, and as Kenway went out of their sight, he pulled out a map his contact within the French army had drawn for him. He had quite a ways to go to get to Jean-Louis Dubreton…


End file.
